Stolen Moments
by scribblemyname
Summary: Jane was rolling over, tucking her hands beneath her head, and blinking at him sleepily before a slow smile spread across her face. "Morning," she said so softly, he probably wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been listening for it.


For KristiLynn in Night on Fic Mountain 2016.

* * *

 **Stolen Moments**

Michael wasn't sure at first what had woken him up. It was quiet throughout the little house, and Mateo's rambunctious feet weren't pattering—or more often _leaping_ —into their bed, and Jane was still asle—

Scratch that.

Jane was rolling over, tucking her hands beneath her head, and blinking at him sleepily before a slow smile spread across her face. "Morning," she said so softly, he probably wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been listening for it.

"Hey." He felt himself grinning back. "Morning."

Jane squinted in the general direction of over his shoulder. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, but I don't think the alarm's gone off yet."

Which meant no rush to get out of bed, make the coffee, go to work. No helter skelter of their early mornings, trying to get Matteo properly dressed for kindergarten before the slippery little eel—cute as he may be—eluded their grasp and made a break for it, giggling all the way. They could enjoy this moment between just the two of them.

He saw the realization in Jane's face too as she hummed contentedly and sank back into the pillow, toes curling against his leg. Michael loved watching her when she decided to savor a moment, loved the way she smiled so wide it made her eyes crinkle and her face glow.

"What?" she asked, a laugh under her voice that made it obvious she didn't actually mind his staring.

"Oh, nothing." He gave a tiny, overly casual shrug. "Just enjoying the view."

"I see."

Some mornings, that would be her cue to roll over and wake him up in ways that had nothing to do with their hectic schedule and everything to do with how much they enjoyed they being married. This morning, it was apparently her cue to snuggle into his side and tug on his arm until he wrapped it around her properly.

"And what do you see?" she asked, faux serious.

"Well, I see a woman who's happy and content," he began, equally pretend serious, "and oh, absolutely gorgeous."

"Gorgeous, huh?" She didn't even try to stop the grin spreading across her face.

"Yep. And smart and warm and caring…"

"And you see all that right now?" She raised her eyebrows, juxtaposing skepticism with dancing eyes and a crooked grin. "Not my messy hair."

"And the morning breath?" he added.

She giggled.

"Maybe." He kissed the top of her head. "Just a tiny bit."

He'd told her a long time ago, he had no dealbreakers. He still didn't. Nothing, not even morning breath, keeping him from pulling her close and letting her curl up in his arms while humming something contentedly under her breath.

"I love you, you know that, right?" she asked, tilting her head up to look at him directly.

"Yeah," he said softly, feeling full of everything she made him feel. "I love you too."

They didn't get long to kiss, to drink in a few moments respite in the light of the early morning sun. With a gleeful shriek, a groan from Michael, and the aforementioned sound of pattering feet, Mateo was leaping into the bed. Jane yelled in surprise and laughed as she caught him, then chided her giggling boy with so much fun and affection, Michael was pretty sure Mateo wasn't going to be learning not to do it anytime soon.

* * *

Michael fell backward into the bed after a long, hard day of Mateo wrangling and preschool teacher placating and Jane reassuring and maybe just a little bit of _being_ reassured—that they weren't raising a total hooligan, that this too would pass, that lost teeth equaled bloody gums and no, Mateo wasn't badly hurt and could be easily mollified with a coin under his pillow that night—and took a moment to breathe.

Right before he had to groan. "Mateo, my ribs."

His little boy sniffed but showed no signs of removing his feet from Daddy's ribs.

"Right." Michael scooped him up and checked Mateo's mouth again. "You're okay, little buddy. Just sore, okay?"

Mateo nodded—mercifully.

"All right, then. Let's go to bed." Michael had never been so glad for a tired, cranky Mateo as when he actually curled up under his covers a moment later and went sound to sleep. He was even cute like that, despite the signs of tear tracks on his face and a fist in his mouth.

"Is he asleep?" Jane asked, whispering softly at Michael's side and startling him.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, he's asleep."

Jane had technically had an even harder day than Michael's, so he left it at that and drew her under his arm to kiss the top of her head. He let her frown over Mateo with motherly concern for a few minutes before gently whisking her out of the nursery over whispered protests.

"I'm sorry, milady," he apologized as he drew her into their bedroom, "but the young prince is asleep, and I believe I had an interrupted audience with the queen this morning that must be completed."

Jane looked at him, then giggled. "Michael!" she admonished.

Not that he was having any of it or that she was actually anything less than pleased by his announcement. Undressing Mateo and getting him into bed had been a largely thankless task, interrupted by whining and tears and at least one howl of pain when Mateo had his hand stuck in his mouth as Michael tried to get his shirt off. Undressing Jane was much more rewarding, interrupted only by kisses and one softly voiced worry, then giggles and smiles. And getting her back into bed to pick up where they'd left off in the morning was entirely overdue.

It was the moments in between their days and nights that he got to feel so much of the joy of being married.

"I love you, you know that, right?" he asked before he kissed her again, with a waiting smile and just needing to hear it again.

She reached up, kissed him, and drew him down under the covers with her. "Yes, and I love you too."


End file.
